


Tell Me Something About Love

by PastelBlueDahlia



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Sex, Anxiety Attacks, Attempt at Humor, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dorks in Love, Falling In Love, Happy Ending, M/M, Okay a lot more angst than just sprinkles, Public Blow Jobs, Sappy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, sprinkled with angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-09 03:45:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11660952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelBlueDahlia/pseuds/PastelBlueDahlia
Summary: On the 18th June, 8 days, 192 hours and 11520 minutes after Vicchan‘s death, and these exact numbers are important, Phichit barges into Yuuri‘s room and looks at him with an unusual serious expression.„Okay,“ he says, his slim hands in his hips „You need a change.“Maybe going out drinking when depressed was not the smartest thing to do, especially not when he came home in only his underwear and with phone numbers scribbled on every part of his body.What Yuuri didn‘t expect was that Phichit had already booked them a flight to Norway at this point.- - - - -Yuuri's life is a mess, and he tries to to fix it. Phichit is a good friend who tries to help, but he surely didn't expect Yuuri to hook up with Viktor Nikiforov on their little vacationAlternate title: Why Norway Is The Best Place To Fall In Love





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BoredMoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoredMoose/gifts).



> For BoredMoose, who is an amazing, funny and motivating person and an even more amazing writer, I hope you enjoy this at least a little bit ♥
> 
> Before reading this I really recommend watching this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4TJkPLN_g8 So, Yuuri and Viktor are in Lilleputthammer, a miniature town that is mostly for kids but body builders like to go there for their self-esteem. Yeah, this is a serious fanfic surprisingly, I completely failed to make this funny this is getting sappier and sappier with each new sentence.
> 
> Also there are some differences to canon: So Vicchan didn't die in winter but summer where this fic takes place. Yuuri placed second in the grand prix final last year and he realizes how little he has except skating, pretty similar to what Viktor feels in canon and yeah, Viktor and Yuuri met but the banquet night where Viktor fell in love didn't happen
> 
> Please enjoy! ♥

 

 

 

The thing is, Yuuri likes to be in control.  
  
He hates having anxiety, but he learned to live with it in a way that allows him to do well in skating, and he likes being able to perform a story on the ice and drill routines and jumps and stories into his body until they are engraved into his muscles and even his bones. But recently it feels like his control is slipping through his fingers like sand, because the thing he had yearned for since he was a child is now reachable, and he was so close to obtaining it. Yuuri had climbed the ladder of success and fame and money and was so close to the top now, but he made the mistake to look behind him and realized that one day, when he'll stand on the very top, then he will have to eventually climb down. Maybe he will even fall from alone. Or someone will push him away.  
  
And as he stood on the podium directly besides Christophe Giacometti and Viktor Nikiforov he realized that he didn‘t have anything else besides skating if this would be over. "That's it?" he thought and a metallic taste spread on his tongue. He looked up at Viktor on the podium and couldn‘t help but wonder how he lived with this fear because in that moment he saw the perfect, unreachable facade crumble.  
  
It was terrifying.  
  
But he had managed to survive and place well on other competitions, and now he was back in Detroit and trained under Celestino, even though his world and perspective seemed distorted somehow. Everything was the same yet it was different, it was like looking at a mind trick picture and realizing that it could show two things simultaneously and now as he knows how the other thing looked, knew it existed in the first place, it got impossible to see the first version.  
  
His life, or rather, his fate seemed to drive mindlessly, carelessly and jerked the steering wheel like a maniac, and his fate the maniac metaphorically ran over his beloved dog Vicchan whose only mistake was that he was too excited and not afraid enough of cars.  
  
His world distorted even more and he found himself more than ever in states of panic that ended in states of absolute indifference.  
  
On the 18th June, 8 days, 192 hours and 11520 minutes after Vicchan‘s death, and these exact numbers are important, Phichit barges into Yuuri‘s room and looks at him with an unusual serious expression.  
  
„Okay,“ he says, his slim hands in his hips „You need a change.“  
  
Maybe going out drinking when depressed was not the smartest thing to do, especially not when he came home in only his underwear and with phone numbers scribbled on every part of his body.  
  
What Yuuri didn‘t expect was that Phichit had already booked them a flight to Norway at this point.

 

 

  
„Come on, Yuuri,“ Phichit whines while he draws on his trademark eyeliner with the precision of a surgeon, „It will be fun! Meeting new people. Enjoying the landscape and food. You just need to see different things and come out of your room once in a while! Well, for another reason than drinking," he adds a little bitterly, "Who knows, maybe you‘ll meet a cute Norwegian boy with blue eyes and blonde hair and fall in love!“ he exclaims excited, too excited and too loud for Yuuri‘s hangover. He leans against the door frame and it feels like this is the only thing that holds him upright.  
  
„This _definitely_ won‘t happen,“ he says, and he is surprised how annoyed his own voice sounds. Phichit sighs probably but Yuuri turns around on his heel and slams the door shut to his room, curling into his bed and this time he doesn‘t know if he cries because Phichit is insensitive, because he is still in no mood to pick up the pieces of his messed up life and rearrange them into something that works, or because he has a splitting headache that curls right at his temples. He decides that it‘s a combination of all three.

 

 

 

Most people don‘t know about Phichit that he can not only be extremely convincing if he wants to be and can get past every bouncer with a flutter of his eyelashes, but he is also extremely determined when it comes to his priorities. These are: 1) social media or skating, because he doesn‘t like to pick favorites, 2) his hamsters and 3) Yuuri. At least that‘s what he always tells him, even though Yuuri often enough had to feed his hamsters („I‘m forgetful, that doesn‘t mean I wouldn‘t protect them with my life!“) or the time Phichit just disappeared at a club only to be found by Yuuri covered in kiss marks.  
  
Unfortunately Phichit sees Yuuri now as his number one priority and that includes effectively ignoring Yuuri‘s complaints about how he doesn‘t want to sit in a cramped airplane for hours. As expected, the flight is hell, and all Yuuri wants is to curl up in a blanket and sleep. Sleep preferably so long until he goes back in time when Vicchan was still alive and his life was not such a mess.  
  
Yuuri will always, undoubtedly be utterly, extremely unhappy, and nothing would chan-  
  
„Holy fuck, is that Viktor Nikiforov?!“ Phichit practically screams. Yuuri‘s head whips around and he sees the platinum blonde, almost silvery head of Viktor Nikiforov, his dark Gucci sunglasses a stark contrast to his vivid paleness, his forearms braced on the counter as he leans forward to obviously flirt with the stewardess behind it. It is really only out of habit that he reacts his way whenever he hears the name Viktor. He met him. Spoke to him. Even got complimented and touched him when the photographers wanted to take a picture. Viktor isn‘t unreachable. He is a human, how strange that may sound when Yuuri thought about the fact that for half his life, Viktor had been his goal, had been the person he wanted to become. Now he looks at Viktor‘s face in the busy crowd of the airport and can only think about how he named his dog after him. About how skating isn‘t nearly as fun anymore. About how he feels so lost and he wonders if Viktor ever felt the same, sitting on the lonely top for years.  
  
„Stop drooling,“ Phichit laughs and wraps an arm around Yuuri‘shoulder. „I think I‘ve never seen such short booty shorts. Do you think he is wearing a thong or no underwear at all?“ he wonders and Yuuri feels his face heat up, and he tries to clasp a hand over Phichit‘s laughing mouth.

 

 

  
The hotel room they share is small, cheap, with tiny windows but at least enough space to put their things away. Yuuri is exhausted from the flight, but he knows Phichit long enough to know that he not only has way too much energy, but that he also will try to squeeze as many "New Experiences" into these two days they have. That doesn‘t stop him from falling on his bed and burying his face into the pillow.  
  
„Yuuri, I know where we'll go!“ Phichit exclaims and stares at his phone. He swipes a little down and his eyes sparkle even more than before, his grin wide and almost mischievous.  
  
„Where?“ he mumbles into the soft cushion.  
  
„There's a down not far from here, Lilleputthammer,“ Phichit says as he lays down next to Yuuri on the double bed. „I‘ve heard great things about it. The website is in Norwegian but there is a site in English,“ his eyes skim over some text and he laughs again. „Seems like they have a roller coaster. And look, 'Here you can ride up, down and around in a circle'!“ Phichit laughs and maybe a little smile tugs on the corner of Yuuri‘s mouth.  
  
„Wow, _amazing,_ “ he deadpans.

 

 

 

That‘s how they landed in this small town. This literally miniature town. Strangely, the place was full of buff bodybuilders and he only raised his eyebrows questioningly at Phichit who answered with a nervous laugh. It feels a bit strange to see all these little kids with their parents and he wants to scream at them „I‘m really not a pervert!“ which would probably be more suspicious than anything else.  
  
They sit down at tiny miniature chairs on a tiny miniature table drinking miniature coffee out of tiny miniature cups. And Yuuri is annoyed because only now the realization hits him that they just came here so that Phichit could flirt with the bodybuilders and that he has to stay in this foreign country a couple more days until he could go back home and be miserable. And he is annoyed because it‘s actually a warm day and the sun should feel nice but it doesn‘t and not being able to enjoy things he used to enjoy feels wrong and is frustrating and somehow it reminds him of Vicchan which doesn‘t make sense and is even more frustrating.  
  
„Come on Yuuri, smile.“ Phichit whispers, smiling as he makes heavy eye contact with the bodybuilders who sit across the miniature street. Yuuri is pretty sure that they can hear them. Phichit winks at them so much it looks like he has an eyelash stuck in his eye.  
  
Yuuri looks down at his tiny cup of coffee and he tries to enjoy this, tries to enjoy the quiet atmosphere and the irregular laughter of some kids that ride the roller coaster, tries to enjoy the sun. But he feels tired and empty, like he will collapse like a house of cards. The sun only stings in his eyes and he can barely look up from the ground.  
  
Phichit stops winking and looks at Yuuri with this strange seriousness that doesn't quite fit to his face. He leans forward and puts his hand reassuringly on Yuuri‘s, smiling the little crooked smile he only shows Yuuri. „I really thought this would cheer you up a bit. Didn‘t really work, huh?“ he says. Yuuri tries his best to smile at him but he can feel the corners of his mouth shaking already after just a couple of seconds.  
  
„Let‘s just stay here for another hour or so, okay? We‘ve already come all the way here so we should at least look around a bit and enjoy the sun. I really thought this would help, I‘m sorry,“ he says earnestly and Yuuri‘s back straightens automatically as the burden of being in public, of being normal falls from his shoulders. Another hour sitting in the sun with his best friend is definitely not the worst that can happen to him.  
  
„Hey!“ Yuuri groans inwardly. _Of course._ „We heard you just now, and we wondered if we could show you around a bit?“ The guy is gorgeous, Yuuri has to admit. He is tanned with an almost too white smile and well, his muscles are surely no demerit, and his friend also doesn‘t look too bad. Yuuri's gaze wanders to his muscular, tanned legs in shorts. He is immediately reminded of the lean, pale legs of Viktor and he has to suppress a sigh.

Phichit looks overjoyed and practically jumps up from his seat, beaming at the two guys. Something crawls up Yuuri‘s throat, hot and it gets hard to breathe, and with shock he realizes that tears prickle in his eyes.  
  
The other guy, blonde and also gorgeously tanned looks at him concerned and puts a hand to Yuuri‘s upper arm. „Are you alright?“ he asks with a strong accent Yuuri can‘t quite place and he can only stare at his sneakers, covered in dust from the gravel street and he shakes his head slightly.  
  
The guy says something to his friend and they turn around, looking back at Yuuri. Phichit immediately lets go of the guy‘s arm and walks towards Yuuri. He can see on the way Phichit approaches him that he wants to console him: his arms stretched out towards him slightly, a tiny reassuring smile on his face but his eyes serious and worried, studying Yuuri‘s possible reactions to physical contact, figuring out what he need in this moment, dissecting him thoroughly on the open street in front of others. It feels like he is a hurt little animal Phichit is trying to catch.  
  
„Sorry Phichit,“ he croaks out, his throat constricted with unspilled tears. „I- I‘m not doing so great right now. I need to be alone. M- meet me here in an hour?“ he rattles down, nails digging into the soft skin of his hands. Phichit nods with an understanding expression before Yuuri runs off.

 

 

 

There are definitely too many people and too little turns. He feels cornered somehow, from the little buildings and from the people, and the only thing that helps him now is the burn in his lungs and in his legs. When he finally stops running he looks around. He really should have paid attention to the way, because he recognizes nothing here. He pulls out his phone „Sorry, I think I got lost so I maybe need a little more than an hour“ Phichit responds immediately „Okay dokey, please be safe!!“ He can‘t help but smile, even though it feels like he is the worst best friend ever.  
  
Yuuri looks around and tries to figure out where he is. The houses here look completely different, more like suburb houses in light pastel colors. Pretty actually, with many details.  
  
One house even has a real looking door, large enough for a human or a kid surely. It‘s stupid. And childish. But Yuuri can‘t help himself. So he crouches down and looks at the door, and it isn‘t even locked, only closed with tiny hooks on the side. It opens, and Yuuri can at least look inside.  
  
When he opens it he sees light wood. Yuuri wiggles through the small door and after he finally closed it behind him he looks around properly.  
  
Light comes through the tiny windows and dust dances through the warmed up air, leaving everything in dim light. Surprisingly all the houses seem to be connected, and it reminds Yuuri of some sort of secret tunnel. As a child he would definitely love this place. Now it helps with his upcoming anxiety attack which is not half bad.  
  
He hugs his leg close to his chest and tries to do his breathing exercises to calm down.  
  
Then he hears the creak of the door, too much light suddenly that stings in his eyes. Pale legs. Sinful booty shorts in red. Viktor Nikiforov‘s silvery head. Viktor Nikiforov‘s eyes. Viktor Nikiforov‘s yelp when he finally spots Yuuri and his head shoots against the door frame in surprise. He groans, holding the back of his head with one hand.  
  
Yuuri is dreaming. Maybe he passed out somewhere?  
  
„Viktor.“ Is all Yuuri says, and Viktor looks at him, still rubbing his head. He simply answers „Yeah,“ before he fully crawls inside and closes the door behind him „Am I interrupting something?“ he asks, his eyes somehow even bluer than when they stood on the podium or by the banquet. Yuuri shakes his head and looks at his sneakers again, Viktor‘s legs in his peripheral vision. Somehow he looks shockingly vibrant. Something about his eyes, his pale skin and the way light shines through his hair makes him look otherworldly, not like Viktor Nikiforov. The word sits on the tip of Yuuri‘s tongue but it‘s something he never associated with him.

„So, what are you doing here Yuuri?“ he asks, retying his shoe. It‘s strange hearing his forename out of his mouth. Yuuri looks at the graceful play of his long fingers and it‘s strangely mesmerizing.  
  
„My dog died.“  
  
Viktor looks at him, his face serious and with genuine condolence he says „I‘m so sorry.“ And something about they way Viktor's eyebrows are knitted together makes Yuuri‘s chest tight, makes him remember that Vicchan really died, but he tries to smile because that‘s what you normally do, and his lips begin to tremble again, betraying him, and he pushes his glasses up his forehead to wipe on his eyes, his chest rocking with heavy sobs that sound pathetic even to his own ears.  
  
„ _Hey_...“ Viktor says softly, smiling as he slides on his knees over to Yuuri, sitting besides him and touching his upper arm. „Don‘t cry, everything will be alright,“ he says and Yuuri shakes his head, staring at his sneakers.  
  
„I‘m _never_ going to be happy again,“ he says with grumpy determination. Yuuri can feel Viktor‘s gaze lingering on his face. Yuuri will later learn that Viktor is really bad at comforting people and that he was close to crying in this moment because he thought about Makkachin dying.  
  
And because he is so bad at consoling people he wraps his arm around Yuuri‘s shoulders, guiding him to rest his head against his chest and runs his thumb slowly over Yuuri‘s red cheek. Then Yuuri feels Viktor pressing a kiss to the top of his head and he is pretty sure now that he passed out somewhere, but he doesn't care. He freezes, muscles tense and listens with wide eyes to the strong and even beat of Viktor‘s heart.  
  
„I‘m sorry...“ Viktor whispers into the heated air, „I‘m very bad at consoling people.“ Yuuri laughs wetly and even snorts in an ugly way.  
  
(If he had listened closer he would have noticed how Viktor‘s heartbeat wasn‘t that even anymore)  
  
„I think you‘re doing okay,“ he says and Viktor‘s face lights up in a way Yuuri never saw before.

„You know...“ Viktor says, and his voice is dripping with something sweet and syrupy, clinging to every low spoken syllable as his hand finds its way to Yuuri‘s waist. „I could console you in another way,“ he grins and his face is gorgeous with tiny freckles Yuuri never saw before and so he lets himself fall back onto the warm wood, stretching his arms out to Viktor.

(If Yuuri had known Viktor better, knew that boyish, teasing grin better, he would have known that this was his humor and his way of joking. But Yuuri was gorgeous with porcelain skin and red cheeks so it didn‘t take much for Viktor to change his mind)  
  
It turns out that Viktor really is wearing a thong under these booty shorts.

As expected, Viktor is perfect in every possible way. The pretty curve of his ass, his endless long legs wrapped around Yuuri‘s waist and pulling him closer, the way he opens condom wrappers very effectively with his teeth, his bony hands that are everywhere, his pale skin blooming with love bites and a pretty flush that reaches all the way down to his chest. Yuuri never imagined that Viktor could blush, and definitely not this way.  
  
„Wow.“ Viktor breaths, afterwards, and Yuuri can only ask himself if this really just happened. There are sunspots on Viktor‘s white skin, and it looks like they belong there just like his freckles. He never saw them in posters, they probably like to blur them out. It‘s strangely satisfying to know this about Viktor. Like he holds a tiny piece of him in his hands and nobody can take it away from him.  
  
„Do you want to go somewhere?“ and Viktor smiles when he asks, and saying no seems impossible. So he nods.

Viktor smiles again as he lifts himself of the floor and gets his underwear, shorts and tank top. Yuuri takes the clothes out of his hands, ignoring Viktor‘s surprised expression. Then he dresses him, slowly and carefully, taking his time and savoring every second because he knows this won‘t last, whatever this is and he is only a selfish man and wants to claim something from Viktor. He can‘t help but smile as Viktor gets goosebumps and shivers when Yuuri‘s knuckles brush over his cooled skin.  
  
The smile immediately makes him feel exhausted.  
  
He pulls Viktor‘s socks over his broken, abused feet, and then straightens the little folds in his tank top, gliding one very last time over his beautiful, lithe body, and Yuuri can‘t help but think bitterly that there are already no remnants of from what happened, that the love bites will fade and his skin will cool down. It feels like his own will always stay this flaming hot on the places Viktor touched him.  
  
The only reason Viktor had fucked him was probably because it‘s a great story to tell, how he had sex in a miniature house in Norway. A _Viktor Nikiforov_ story.

But it‘s still strange how Viktor looks at him. His face is way more open, and the word from earlier still tastes strange in his mouth so he suppresses it, but Viktor looks so much younger in this kind of clothes and it makes Yuuri‘s heart clench.  
  
Then Yuuri ties Viktor‘s shoes, and when he looks up Viktor beams at him which somehow reminds Yuuri about how back in Junior Viktor had these huge gaps in between his teeth, and he tries to smile but feels how broken and unsure it must look.  
  
The sun outside is blinding on the gravel path. It‘s strange seeing Viktor now in this bright light, almost even more surreal than in the house, and Yuuri feels detached from everything, big holes are gaping in his chest that make his spine weak and his shoulders slumped.  
  
Yuuri doesn‘t know if this is better than before.

 

 

 

They sell ice cream by a small kiosk, and in front of it there are many kids, chattering and laughing and even some bodybuilders that shamelessly stare at Viktor in his shorts. Viktor smiles, real and genuine, and Yuuri wonders how he was convinced for all these years that the smile in interviews and on posters was his real one, when now it seems so obvious that his real smile looks like this: his cupids bow so prominent that his mouth gets this ridiculous adorable heart shape and his face looks almost too small to contain it, his eyes crinkling at the edges as his face lights up in a way that is simply blinding, surreal and _perfect._

Their fingers brush when Viktor hands him his popsicle. Strangely, it doesn‘t make him embarrassed or uncomfortable.  
  
Yuuri feels like he stumbled into a hyper realistic dream and he half expects to wake up any moment with his face pressed in gravel.  
  
They sit down at a low stone wall that's heated up from the burning sun, their feet dangling over the ground. Yuuri can‘t help but watch Viktor out of his peripheral vision, just to reassure himself that he is still there, that he is real.  
  
So he says „Viktor...“ and even to his own ears it sounds like a plea. Viktor‘s white popsicle plops out of his red mouth and he looks like he understands what Yuuri wants, because he smirks and leans in to let himself be kissed.  
  
Viktor‘s lips are cold but his own are too, and honestly he doesn‘t feel anything much except the feeling of something against his lips because his own are so numb from the cold, but he tastes vanilla on his lips and eagerly licks it away, mixing it with the taste of his strawberry popsicle.

Viktor pulls away and blinks with his long, silvery lashes slowly, content and then smiles this heart shaped smile around his popsicle, biting it carefully as he kicks his legs against the stone wall, and he looks so young and childish and Yuuri‘s heart _hurts hurts hurts._  
  
It‘s almost scary what Viktor does to him.  
  
The sun shines so brightly that it‘s hard to look at the sky or the ground or anything at all, and the brightest thing of all is Viktor with his mesmerizing blue eyes and tiny freckles which Yuuri discovers one after another.  
  
After what feels like an eternity of small talk Viktor gets a text and stands up, the sand crunching under his soles. „That‘s Chris, he wants to know where I am,“ and he leans down to Yuuri and presses a peck to his lips, and all Yuuri can feel is that Viktor‘s lips aren‘t cold anymore, and his chest tightens up again because he wants to taste so much more, wants to taste vanilla on his lips and shallow his moans like before when they were in their own world, but Viktor‘s back is so straight and strong and he looks different, more like the Viktor from his posters than the Viktor with the heart shaped smile.  
  
And Yuuri feels something disgusting well up in his throat because all he wants to say is _Don‘t go, don‘t leave me_ which is silly because Viktor gave him so much already and wanting more is terrible selfish but he can‘t stop wanting _something._  
  
Not with the way he laughs or the way his shoulders are the tiniest bit sunburnt.  
  
„Ah, I almost forgot,“ he says, turning around on his heel, „Can I have your number?“

 

 

 

Viktor‘s phone number is the prettiest string of numbers Yuuri has ever seen.  
  
After Viktor went to Chris (Yuuri was not staring at his ass, okay, he was not) he turned up the brightness on his phone and stared at his screen, trying to think about under which name he should save him, if it would be okay to use emojis or even a nickname. For one silly moment he even thinks about saving him as Binktop.  
  
In their hotel room Yuuri lies on their bed with the blanket bundled up and stuck between his legs and hugging it like a bodypillow. He tells Phichit in a low voice about Viktor and he just starts squealing and grins and makes jokes, and it helps Yuuri to feel a tiny bit better about running away from him back then. Phichit doesn‘t seem to want to bring it up again and Yuuri feels his shoulders gradually relax as gratitude floods his chest.  
  
Binktop texts him exactly at 4:20 am because he is a dork. The text says: Good morning Yuuri! (◜♡◝) Do you want to meet tomorrow (or rather today) and watch a film or something? Besos, Viktor.  
  
Yuuri clutches his phone in his hand and can‘t help but laugh quietly.

 

 

 

When Yuuri finally spots Viktor his breath catches in his chest and he hears himself gasp almost dramatically (the guy who walks past him looks pretty concerned and tightens his arm around his girlfriend). Viktor doesn‘t wear his booty shorts anymore, instead his legs are covered in light blue washed out jeans, artistically ripped just the right amount to see his legs but not enough so it looks silly. Then he wears simple blue vans and a white t-shirt that (sadly) covers more of his skin than the tank top from the day before. The silver swoop of is hair looks fluffier today, even more perfect. He beams at Yuuri when his blue, blue eyes land on him. The closer he gets the more he notices that Viktor doesn‘t have freckles anymore and is only the tiniest bit disappointed.

„It‘s strange seeing you in a normal sized world.“ Viktor says and Yuuri can‘t help but laugh. It‘s almost shocking how it just bubbles out of him, loud and strangely freeing.

Yuuri still can‘t get over the fact that he stands beside Viktor again, that he even wants to spend his time with him. He can‘t believe that Viktor gets so much popcorn and nachos, things Yuuri normally doesn't eat because of his diet. Viktor turns around, an almost apologetic smile on his face. Eating stuff like this doesn‘t fit in with the image Yuuri has of Viktor, but it makes sense. He takes a break, he should be able to enjoy any food he likes. Yuuri has to bite his lip so he doesn't smile. He doesn‘t know if it‘s because he is glad for Viktor or because he discovered something new about him.  
  
They sit down in the very last row of the almost empty cinema and only now they realize that the film will be in Norwegian and they won't be able to understand _shit._  
  
After the first unintelligible words leave the mouth of the actress Yuuri looks at Viktor and Viktor looks right back at Yuuri, and they burst out laughing.  
  
But sitting in the dark with a smirking Viktor only makes Yuuri nervous, hyper aware of the fact that he sits beside his idol, and it‘s so hard to match the image of this Viktor with the Viktor he met on the podium, on press conferences.  
  
Yuuri's world changes so fast it makes him dizzy.

His mind wanders unconsciously to yesterday, to the dim light, the dust and haze, the dizziness as he fucked Viktor in this damn miniature house and he feels blood rush into his cheeks and into the opposite direction. Who even _does that?_  
  
Well, apparently Katsuki Yuuri and Viktor Nikiforov.  
  
It‘s almost silly how Viktor glows in the darkness, radiating and vibrant with his frustratingly perfect face and hair. He so badly wants to touch Viktor, wants to make even the tiniest bit of contact, maybe just stroke his pale hand with his pinky. Yuuri wants to touch him so tenderly that it makes Viktor‘s heart ache in the same way his own heart aches and wants to reduce him to a moaning, begging mess with a blush that spreads down to his chest.  
  
Try to guess which seems more appealing now.  
  
„ _Viktor_...“ he whispers, pleads, and Viktor‘s head whips around to him and smiles already as he leans forward a little and meets Yuuri where he is. Yuuri is inexperienced, this is probably no secret for both of them. He wants to make it good for Viktor, wants to make him melt under his touch, under his lips, and thankfully he is determined, eager and a fast learner. Yuuri puts everything he has into his kisses and Viktor‘s tongue moving against his own feels breathtakingly fantastic even when their teeth clack together more than once, but they pull away slightly and giggle, feeling young and silly while they try to stifle each others laughs with their hands, with their mouths and tongues.

Viktor tastes like coke, and his lips are soft, pliant and slick with vanilla lipbalm. Yuuri tries to let their lips smack together as quietly as possible, but it‘s hard to care about anything when Viktor‘s face is illuminated by the blue light, his face so close that he feels his hot breath fanning over his skin, and he pulls Viktor closer by the nape of his neck, runs his fingers through his soft hair and grabs his thin waist.  
  
And the heat is pooling fast in his stomach, faster than ever because now he knows how Viktor looks naked, and that one time didn‘t seem to have stilled his hunger but only made it worse. And he shouldn‘t. It‘s a reckless idea.

Despite his better judgment he slides down from his seat, positioning himself between Viktor‘s legs and he looks up from under his lashes because he doesn‘t know what this is, if this is okay or too forward. Maybe Viktor expected a normal date?  
  
Viktor stares at him with wide eyes that reflect the light of the film they haven‘t spend attention at all, his plump lips parted as if he wants to say something.  
  
And that‘s how Yuuri blew Viktor in public for the first time.

Later, when they wear each others rings on their fingers and Viktor‘s hand is a secure weight on Yuuri‘s waist, Viktor will tell anyone how he knew already after their first date that he was going to marry Yuuri.  
  
And Yuuri will bury his blushing face in his hands and pull Viktor by his tie or by his beltloops closer and into a more private, deserted place, growling „Vitya...“ like a threat, and Viktor will stumble over his own feet and his eyes will gleam because he knows what Yuuri actually tries to say.  
  
When Viktor then comes, his nails digging into Yuuri‘s scalp, Yuuri immediately shallows which Viktor watches with big eyes. Then Yuuri sits back into his seat and rinses the strange taste in his mouth away with coke and stares at the screen in front of him like sucking Viktor‘s dick suddenly gave him the ability to actually understand any of the gibberish they listened to the last hour.  
  
„This...“ Viktor whispers, his voice awe struck, breathless. „This was not safe, you shouldn‘t do something like that, but… _God Yuuri._ “ he breathes and takes Yuuri‘s face in both hands, surprisingly careful and gently and pulls him closer to pepper his whole face with kisses, and Yuuri can‘t help but squirm in his hands and giggle delighted while Viktor goes for his neck or collarbones because he just can‘t seem to get enough which is terrible and unfair because it‘s too good, and at one point the few people who actually watch the film shush both of them, which forces them to be quiet for about two seconds before bursting out laughing again.  
  
They don‘t stay for the rest of the film. Partly because they almost get kicked out.

But Viktor takes his hand and pulls him to the toilets, his wonderful bony fingers jerking him, and Yuuri almost wants to laugh because even now his hands look so ridiculously delicate and graceful even wrapped around a cock. Yuuri clings to Viktor desperately, and it feels way too good to feel him tremble, and now Yuuri realizes that Viktor wears some sort of perfume, because he smells flowery, expensive, smells like sweat and sex and Yuuri buries his nose in the crook of Viktor‘s neck because it smells _way_ too fucking good.  
  
Viktor‘s mouth is red and open as he pants in tandem with Yuuri, his brows furrowed from pleasure like he is experiencing the same sensations like Yuuri, as if he was touching him, and Yuuri comes at the thought, thankfully in a paper towel because Viktor was smart enough to grab it in the last second.  
  
Yuuri tips his head back against the stall door and laughs breathlessly, Viktor‘s head on his shoulder.

It feels like he is going _insane_. And he doesn‘t even mind.

 

 

  
Outside the sun shines bright and the air is hot, and somehow they intertwined their fingers at one point, and Yuuri can‘t bring himself to let him go because Viktor feels good against his skin, slightly cooler than his own and it feels _right._ Right in an almost crazy way because it shouldn‘t feel like this, especially not after just one day but strangely, _it does._  
  
They walk around in town, walking over bridges and into little shops, and when they have to cross a street Yuuri makes sure to walk just a bit faster, to hold Viktor tighter as if to make sure he won‘t run away. Viktor looks at him like he knows and kisses him each time they reach the other side.  
  
They talk about everything and nothing, about what they see, about what they should buy, about their homes, and Yuuri has to tell Viktor again and again that he doesn‘t want him to buy him something and Viktor pouts.  
  
It‘s strange seeing Viktor like this, on the other side of his arm, entangling their fingers like it‘s the most natural thing, like they belong there, like Yuuri belongs to Viktor, and nothing felt righter in his life. Except maybe when he glides over ice but he tries not to think about that.  
  
Yuuri doesn‘t really feel like himself anymore, he feels softer, lightheaded, really appreciating his surroundings and taking it all in, breathing freely and his mind is comfortably empty and he dares to say he even feels _happy._  
  
  
He prays the old Yuuri doesn‘t come back.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets worse until it gets better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm dead, someone take this away before I delete it

 

 

 

Eventually they get hungry, so they wander into a little bakery and sit outside in the sun. Viktor bought himself something creme filled with big, soft looking raspberries on top and it smells faintly like vanilla. Yuuri‘s cake has sharp, perfect edges and the cream is minty green and sprinkled with cocoa powder.  
  
Viktor immediately gets his phone out, and then looks nervously at Yuuri from under his lashes as if he is not sure if this is okay. Yuuri wordlessly moves his own plate so Viktor gets a better angle, because this comes from being Phichit‘s best friend. Viktor‘s face crinkles into something soft, and then it‘s gone as he puckers his lips slightly when he takes a photo, holding his chin in between his thumb and forefinger with a serious expression as he tries to pick the perfect filter. It‘s so endearing that Yuuri _needs_ to kiss him.  
  
He doesn‘t because Viktor starts eating, and it feels a bit like getting strangled.  
  
They talk about something, and when Yuuri looks away from him Viktor briefly he suddenly leans forward on his forearms, holding a deep red raspberry delicately between his parted lips, grinning as his eyes send out sparks.  
  
Yuuri can‘t help but smile as he leans forward a bit and takes the raspberry out of his mouth, their lips brushing almost ticklishly, but Viktor pulls him closer and kisses him properly, and Viktor tastes like whipped cream and raspberry and vanilla and Yuuri feels a hot clenching thing in his chest that rises up to his throat, and it feels like Viktor tries to pull it out of him with his mouth, with his lips.

The raspberry gets crushed between their lips, but neither of them cares.  
  
Afterwards, Viktor looks blissed out, his lips and cheeks tinted pink and Yuuri never knew that sunlight could look so ridiculously good on a person, and the smoldering look he gives Yuuri is too much, and suddenly a heavy sob rocks through his body.  
  
Viktor‘s smile only falters for a second before he pulls Yuuri close again by the nape of his neck and shallows his sounds, and it‘s so hard to stop kissing Viktor because every time he pulls away Viktor opens his eyes suddenly, like he is waking up from a dream and leans forward again the tiniest bit, actually just a twitch, and Yuuri can‘t stay away anymore.  
  
Somehow they manage to break apart, breathless and eat their desserts in comfortable silence with their cheeks tinted pink and their fingers intertwined on the table as the sun starts to set. The sky is suddenly yellow, orange, pink. They pay and in a big glass bowl they sell chupa chups, so Yuuri buys strawberry and tropical.  
  
Viktor links their arms, and they get quiet as they suck on their lollipops. Yuuri feels a deep calmness in the silence, only interrupted when Viktor wants to switch their lollipops from time to time, claiming that they taste better when the flavors are mixed.

It is strange how comfortable Yuuri feels with Viktor by his side, almost as if he was always there, and he looks at Viktor and tries to figure out what makes him so special, and Viktor looks right back at him and smiles, always, always smiling in this gorgeous, breathtaking way.  
  
Viktor shivers, and Yuuri walks a bit faster and rubs his cold, pale arms that are even brighter in the dark, feels the goosebumps under his palms, and Viktor‘s brows knit together in this strange way they sometimes do and Yuuri doesn‘t really want to think about what this means.  
  
(Except he does, _a lot_.)

 

 

  
They are in different hotels and originally they wanted to play rock-paper-scissors to determine where they‘ll go because separating is at this point simply no option anymore, but almost at the same time Phichit calls Yuuri and Chris calls Viktor, and then it‘s a complete mess because Phichit and Chris are together and Yuuri can hear his own voice in Viktor‘s phone and Chris in Yuuri‘s and Phichit in Viktor‘s and Viktor in Yuuri‘s phone and all of them are laughing and giggling too much to actually talk, and it feels like Yuuri will go insane if he doesn‘t laugh, and he looks at Viktor and he knows it‘s the same for him too.

They agree to meet in Viktor‘s and Chris‘ hotel room. When they arrive Phichit is holding his belly and wheezes, tears streaming down his face from whatever he showed Chris on his phone, and Chris silently rubs on the corners of his eyes, little fits of laughter rocking through his body like aftershocks. Yuuri looks at Viktor and Viktor looks at Yuuri, squeezing their intertwined fingers tightly, and they both start to giggle for some unknown reason.  
  
(Except they know because it‘s painted on their faces, on their lips and it terrifies both of them)  
  
Yuuri likes drinking and Yuuri likes Viktor, so it seems like a good idea to combine these two. Depending on who you ask it really is a good idea. Yuuri can hold his alcohol well, but he starts blushing everywhere, on the tips of his ears, his chest, and Viktor nuzzles against his naked skin (Yuuri can‘t remember taking his clothes off) as if Yuuri is a heater, and he babbles drunken, lovely things that stick syrupy sweet to Yuuri‘s skin.  
  
(Or maybe it‘s just Viktor‘s drool and Yuuri doesn‘t know how to feel about that)  
  
Yuuri wraps his arms around Viktor and pulls him closer, and he notices how cool his skin is compared to his own, and he is suddenly overwhelmed with the need to warm him up and give him a soft blanket.

Yuuri feels content and warm as he looks down and sees Viktor‘s cheek pressed against his chest and his lashes look so long from above. And it‘s terrible, because it‘s their last day together before he has to go home where responsibilities wait for him, things he has to do like working on new routines or even figuring out if he wants to continue skating if he feels like this. The realization hits him low in the gut and causes nausea. His smile falls from his face. Yuuri feels his lungs cave in, squeezing down on his heart.  
  
Vicchan‘s death still makes it hard to breathe. And it still gets hard to breathe in general when he thinks about his future.  
  
But it‘s okay, really. Because he can look at the slight curve of Viktor‘s lips and knows that he is even able to have these strong, breathtaking, selfish, tender feelings for another person. It‘s calming knowing that he can feel this, that despite his distress he doesn‘t stand still and can maybe feel this way in the future again. That his life won‘t end when his skating career ends. That he is, and this thought surprises him genuinely, more than the artistry of his step sequences, more than the power in his jumps, more than his dizzying spins.  
  
It‘s good knowing that he will feel this way again, but there is a pang of sadness in his heart when he thinks about the fact that the next time he feels like this it won‘t be with Viktor. And then there is a way more irrational feeling settling in his chest when he thinks about the future Viktor will have now, that he will feel like this again too with a different person.  
  
Yuuri notices that the cheerful banter between Phichit and Chris had stopped, and he looks up and finds them watching him with tiny fond smiles on their faces.

Phichit turns to Chris and asks: „Do you think what I‘m thinking?“  
  
Chris blinks slowly, his lashes almost getting caught up in another as he smirks. „Yeah,“ he answers, and Yuuri is still amazed how Chris can turn such a simple word into something that sounds like an innuendo.  
  
Phichit rolls his eyes almost gracefully. „Not that. The other thing.“  
  
„I didn‘t know you were such a buzzkill,“ he pouts and Yuuri wants to laugh because it reminds him so much of Viktor.  
  
Phichit stands up with wobbly knees „You know I‘m not, but these two need some quality alone time,“ he announces and pulls on Chris‘ arm. _Oh._ Somehow Yuuri forgot that Chris likes to take his clothes off when he drinks.  
  
Chris sighs and picks up his clothes, holding them to his chest in a bundle, his voice like honey when he says: „Now make us proud, we want you to make some sweet, sweet love.“  
  
Phichit puts his hand in front of his mouth to from a funnel „Nail him hard and good Yuuri! Or Viktor! Wohoo!“

Viktor laughs sleepily and Yuuri rolls his eyes as they shut the door. Then he grabs Viktor under the hollows of his knees and supports his back, slowly lifting him off the floor and carrying towards the bed with the white sheets and soft looking pillows. Viktor giggles and gets a tiny bit heavier. When he lays Viktor carefully on the bed he feels a pang of guilt because Chris would have to sleep here. But when he is with Phichit they will probably not sleep but visit any club in town. Yuuri smiles at bit at the thought what crazy stories Phichit will tell him tomorrow.  
  
„What?“ Viktor laughs, and now Yuuri full-blown grins and kisses Viktor‘s temple, shaking his head slightly.  
  
„Just thinking about something.“  
  
Viktor hums acknowledging, his hands wandering to Yuuri‘s arm, his neck and back, the touch so light that he barely feels it. But it‘s good, seeing Viktor under him, the want so clear in his face that he just has to touch Yuuri somewhere, _anywhere_ because Yuuri feels exactly the same.  
  
He lays next to Viktor and turns the little lamp on the nightstand on. Viktor‘s head naturally finds its way to Yuuri‘s chest and his hair tickles Yuuri‘s skin. He drapes an arm over Yuuri‘s waist and Yuuri threads his fingers through the fine strands of Viktor‘s silky hair, putting his hand gently to Viktor‘s upper arm, brushing the skin lightly with his thumb and smiling as he feels the goosebumps his touch leaves on Viktor‘s skin.

Yuuri‘s heart is empty and full at the same time, but he doesn‘t care, doesn‘t want to think about tomorrow when now Viktor‘s warm cheek is pressed against his chest.  
  
They lie there in comfortable silence in the dim light, and the wind lets the thin curtains float. Yuuri closes his eyes and tries to burn this moment into his memory. The looming goodbye sits already on the tip of his tongue, and he knows he has to say anything, do anything, but he was never good with words.  
  
Viktor is different in this regard. He can be good with words. He beats Yuuri to it.  
  
„I like you.“  
  
It‘s unfair how he sounds and how much courage he has to say these simple, three words. His voice is faint, different, and now Yuuri can fully think about what he thought in the little house: Viktor is vulnerable around him. Yuuri smiles at the ceiling.

But Yuuri knows he can‘t do this, can‘t give in and get lost in whatever they‘ve built over the course of the last two days. He still doesn‘t know who he wants to be when he comes back home, back to Detroit. Maybe he will stop skating. Maybe he will go back to Hasetsu. But if that‘s going to be the case then he can‘t get Viktor tangled up in it. He already forgot where he ends and Viktor begins and it‘s _terrifying_.

So he says in an even fainter voice: “I like you too...“ and the weight of these words is terrible because they are not nearly enough, and the goodbye from before slips down his throat and to the pit of his stomach like a cold stone of dread. That‘s why he adds „But-“ and he feels Viktor tense up the slightest bit, feels him tighten his arm around Yuuri‘s waist, „I‘m a hot mess and I- I think that you didn‘t really realize it before? So, I‘m telling you now.“  
  
Viktor hums and draws small, tortuous circles into Yuuri‘s chest with a pointed finger.  
  
„I agree that you are hot,“ he says and splays his hand flat across Yuuri‘s chest as it trembles with laughter.  
  
„You know what I mean,“ he laughs but his smile falls from his face quickly. „Now it‘s still the honeymoon phase where we see each other through rose-tinted glasses- and please don‘t make a joke about you not wearing glasses,“ Viktor pinches him in the side at that, „And we practically don‘t know anything about each other yet.“  
  
_I‘m lying,_ Yuuri thinks. _I‘ve known you since you were a teenager. I know that you have freckles, that you enjoy eating probably even more than me, that your skin cools down quickly after sex, that your smile in front of cameras is fake. I know that-_

„I really like that you said honeymoon phase,“ Viktor interrupts his train of thought, and Yuuri can hear the soft smile in his voice and it feels like a punch to the gut.  
  
„But what I like even more is that you said yet,“ and Viktor shifts his position and slides closer to Yuuri‘s face, looking down at him and Yuuri can almost taste the sweetness on his lips from the drink before, his eyes sparkling warmly.  
  
„Huh?“  
  
Viktor giggles, but against Yuuri‘s chest it feels like he is sobbing. „ _Yet,_ “ he says, his voice so soft and full of awe and joy, „You don‘t know me _yet_. As in, we will get to know each other,“ he explains and his voice is too fond, too soft and makes heat crawl up in Yuuri‘s cheeks. Viktor traces Yuuri‘s chin and jaw lightly with his fingers, leaving goosebumps in its wake, following the movement of his fingers with his eyes, mesmerized. Then he looks into Yuuri‘s eyes again, his expression unreadable.  
  
„This doesn‘t sound like a goodbye,“ he says, like it‘s nothing important, almost casually, even though it couldn‘t mean more to them.  
  
Yuuri‘s heart is pounding way too hard and his breath hitches in his chest and he is sure that Viktor notices especially because their chests are so pressed up against each other. It feels like his lungs are caving in and the air is pressed out of him. And Yuuri decides to not lie to himself for two seconds.

„It… isn‘t, no.“  
  
Viktor‘s eyes are sending out sparks and the corners of his mouth twitch.  
  
„So?“ he asks and Yuuri can see the excitement in his sparkling eyes, the smile on his face, the way his shoulders are pulled up the slightest bit and he looks like a child, „What does this no goodbye mean?“  
  
Yuuri really should‘ve thought more about what he says. And it‘s horrible because Yuuri wants and craves and yearns, and he doesn‘t know where to put these feelings or how to find the words, if he even should say them or if they would complicate the situation. It hurts, and it gets worse with Viktor pressed this close to him and that he has to be the reasonable one, the one that has to say no.  
  
„Viktor, I like you very, very much, but-“  
  
„Don‘t say that,“ Viktor interrupts, his smile falling from his face, „Say and.“

Yuuri can‘t help but sigh softly, his lips twitching into a nervous smile. „And… I guess I‘m afraid because-“ he breathes out and hides his eyes under the crook of his arm, „I feel like my whole life is spiraling out of control and that my dog died is somehow the peak? I feel like everything just- crumbled away after that, or at least that‘s when I fully noticed how little control over my life or anything I actually have. I-“ and Yuuri chokes on the words, and the little knot Viktor furled with skilled, swift hands unfurls into a messy thing in his mind, unstoppable because Viktor pulled on the loose thread.  
  
„I‘m scared because I have no goal. And no ambition.“ He says with a finality that is deafening.  
  
Yuuri takes a long, shaky breath. „And then I‘m scared because- um, I‘m sure you noticed already but I‘m a huge fan of you and I always looked up to you. And I- yeah, I have some idolized version of you in mind. And I don‘t want to sound conceited but maybe you have one of me too? Or of the concept of… this relationship between us. And I don‘t want you to get fed up with me at one point because I‘m not the person you thought I was when I shatter your illusions. I just- don‘t want us to hurt each other.“  
  
Viktor is silent. Yuuri is sure that he can feel his heart throwing itself against his rib cage.

Suddenly Yuuri feels Viktor's lips against his. He dares to lift his arm and looks at Viktor again.  
  
„We _won‘t_.“ He says and smiles, and he says it with so much surety that it settles deep into Yuuri‘s bones. „I know we kind of avoided talking about skating, but I‘m actually trying to find my own passion for skating back and I think we are pretty similar when it's about not having a goal or ambition,“ he laughs softy, even though he has not the slightest reason to, „But since I know you, um, know you like this, I feel… different. Good different. I don‘t know what this means...um-“  
  
„Yet.“ Yuuri says, and the smile on his face feels real, effortless and it seems like his own smiles are just as contagious as Viktor‘s because his unsure and serious expression morphs into a smile. „Right. Yet.“ He confirms and Yuuri can‘t help but pull Viktor closer and kiss him again and again and again.  
  
„And besides, if we hurt each other we can still choreograph routines with the theme heartbreak.“  
  
„Mine will definitely be better than yours.“ Yuuri deadpans.  
  
„We‘ll see.“ Viktor says with a mischievous smile on his lips, his eyes sparkling. Yuuri laughs and tucks a loose strand of Viktor‘s hair behind his ear. „I want to know everything about you,“ he says, and his voice is raspy and thick with emotion and it feels cliche, but he just can‘t feel embarrassed when Viktor looks at him with these wide, awestruck eyes.

„Tell me something. _Anything,_ “ he pleads.  
  
Viktor chuckles breathy. „Okay, umm...“ he hums and closes his eyes, smiling, „Oh! I hate my freckles.“ And he whispers the word freckles like he is telling a secret and Yuuri‘s heart is too full, so he pulls Viktor a little closer to kiss him.  
  
„These?“ he asks and kisses Viktor‘s cheeks, his nose and forehead and Viktor chuckles again.  
  
„ _Stop!_ “ he laughs, and he gets this tiny crease in between his eyebrows. Yuuri kisses it immediately.  
  
„They are so cute, how can you hate them?“  
  
Viktor sighs, smiling fondly as if he is recalling a memory. „When I was a child I had them everywhere, on my arms and on my back and so many on my face, and I‘m scared that they will come back, so I always use sunscreen and cover them up with concealer or foundation.“  
  
„That‘s why I‘ve never seen them on ads or posters!“

„They don‘t necessarily fit in with the Viktor Nikiforov image,“ and something quieter, something sad creeps into his voice, „You are actually one of the few people who know about them,“ he says smiling, and Yuuri‘s heart aches with this something, and it‘s frustrating to know exactly what it is and not being able to do anything about it.  
  
„I mean, along my make up team, Chris, people who see me at the pool-“ Yuuri laughs and pinches Viktor in his side. „Don't ruin it,“ he laughs and Viktor leans down and whispers into Yuuri‘s ear: “Tell me something.“  
  
Yuuri feels heat coil in his gut because of his voice. „Um...“ he laughs nervously, „I don‘t know about what? My favorite color? Or food?“  
  
Viktor smiles at him boyish, nods, and his whole face says what Yuuri thinks the whole time, and he looks at him like Yuuri could tell him his grocery list and he would still be completely enraptured.  
  
„Okay, so my favorite color is blue, and my favorite food is katsudon. Ah- it‘s a pork cutlet bowl and it‘s the best thing god ever created.“  
  
„Besides you.“ Viktor says and winks. Yuuri snorts.  
  
„You‘re such a _sap,_ “ he murmurs, voice fond.  
  
„Look, another fact about me! We're learning so fast!“ he exclaims and leans down to kiss Yuuri again and again and again until they‘re both breathless.

Yuuri rolls them over so that Viktor is under him, both of them giggling as he pulls the thin sheets over both of them, and all Yuuri sees in the dim, amber light is _Viktor, Viktor, Viktor,_ and it's terrifying because it feels like his heart gets clenched in a hot fist and his throat feels too tight and constricted with the words he wants to say, and then Viktor pulls him closer by the nape of his neck and kisses him and presses his smile onto Yuuri‘s.

All he sees and feels and tastes is Viktor, and it feels like they are completely alone in the whole world. Yuuri is happy, content and it‘s terrifying to feel this way, hazy somehow because their time runs out and he tries to possess something of Viktor. And it‘s terrifying because Viktor looks up at him and feels exactly the same.  
  
Yuuri traces Viktor‘s freckles with his fingers and whispers compliments and praises and Viktor pouts, his features trembling with emotion because he is so worshiped, so adored, and Yuuri chuckles and kisses his frown and his neck and then his neck a bit more because his neck is so pretty and it makes Viktor squirm and laugh under Yuuri, and he is _happy, happy, happy._  
  
And Viktor‘s tongue is hot and tastes sweet in his mouth, and Yuuri is so weak for all the things he does, for how he touches, caresses his jaw, weak for how his bony fingers dig into his shoulder, is so weak for how he sucks and bites and it‘s too much and not _enough._  
  
Their fingers start to trail lines and patterns over each others skin, and it feels good to be wanted, amazing to be wanted by Viktor, and it‘s even more amazing to be touched this tenderly because it doesn‘t feel like foreplay, doesn‘t feel sexual at all but more like they need to touch and explore every centimeter of skin they can find, burn this into their memories and as Viktor moans and pants into his mouth he realizes just how much how he wants to absorb Viktor and wants to be absorbed in return, posses and be possessed, and he wants it so much that it's almost filthy and primeval. And it feels strange how obsessed he is with each kiss, with each flick of his tongue, with each brush of his fingers that ignite something deep inside Yuuri.  
  
Viktor looks gorgeously otherworldly in this light and his heart throws itself against his rib cage again like it wants to reach Viktor‘s heart, want to merge with it, and it‘s hard to breathe under the sheets and too hot, but it feels like they are in their own world, in their own bubble where the time stands still and tomorrow never comes, and he can‘t break this moment because it seems like Viktor will disappear into thin air when he lets him go, when he lifts the sheets, like he will simply evaporate.

Yuuri touches Viktor everywhere, touches his cheeks and his jaw and his lips and his neck and shoulders, his thin waist and his thighs and it‘s still not enough, it‘s still not nearly enough, and he notices then in his haze how hard Viktor has become and how hard he pants, so he grinds down experimentally and Viktor moans, high and beautiful and lovely and Yuuri moans or gasps or sobs, he isn‘t sure and it‘s not important, not important _at all._  
  
They grind against each other slowly, almost carefully, and Yuuri feels the words again sitting at the tip of his tongue, and he wants to say them, give this a name, but he is so, so terrified and weak, but Viktor looks at him like he would be completely fine with everything Yuuri wants to tell him.  
  
Viktor looks at Yuuri like he is the only one who can give him what he needs.  
  
„Yuuri...“ he whines, his brows furrowed in pleasure, „ _Touch me,_ “ he pleads and Yuuri reaches for his pants to pull them down, but Viktor suddenly stops his hands.  
  
„Not here,“ he pants, „Let‘s go to the house.“ And his blue eyes stare right into Yuuri‘s, and both of them know that it will take some time to go there and Yuuri doesn‘t fully understand why Viktor wants to go there so badly but somewhere on the right side of his body he understands and at the same time it's still a damn mystery like their whole encounter, like their whole relationship.

So Yuuri nods and lifts the sheets, and both of them shiver immediately because there is suddenly so much air. It feels like drinking water, and he looks at Viktor and they smile at each other, and Yuuri is so much at this moment, too much. It‘s frightening but even more exciting.

 

 

 

So they pack a backpack and entwine their hands, laughing as they shiver in the cold night air, and Yuuri is overwhelmed again with this need to warm Viktor‘s cold hands up. They are laughing and giggling so much, and it almost seems kind of indecent, almost rude for the other people who don't know what they are about to do.

Yuuri can‘t help but feel sorry for the people who don‘t experience the same as them, and he wonders if the old man that walks past them ever felt that way or if he'll ever feel this way, and when he looks at Viktor‘s pale face that seems to beam from the inside, he knows that the answer is probably no. It feels like this feeling is only reserved for them and unique in all history.  
  
And while they walk they play this silly game again, saying „Tell me something.“ And Yuuri learns that Viktor usually uses mascara, that he sometimes washes his hair two or three times in a row when he is stressed because they dried the wrong way, that he wears extremely ugly wool socks and even uglier fleece socks at home because his feet get cold easily and he likes to slide around in them because he was never allowed to do it when he was young, and Yuuri tells him that he can poledance (Viktor gasps delighted) and tells him how his father‘s cocking is so much better than his mothers and when she cooks from time to time everyone pretends it‘s the best thing they ever ate, and tells him how he used to have so many posters of him in his room and how the room in his hometown is still full of posters, and Viktor‘s blush is hot under his thumb as Yuuri leans in to kiss him, and he tells him about his anxiety to which Viktor hums quietly and looks at him without the slightest bit of pity in his features, and Yuuri could never before talk and breathe this freely.

 

 

 

Lilleputthammer looks almost creepy in the moonlight, and they know this is probably trespassing, but they couldn‘t care less. It takes some time to find the right street and the door, and then they look at each other almost expecting, and Viktor looks gorgeous with his hair whitened from the moonlight.  
  
Inside it‘s pitch black with some moondots from the tiny windows. Viktor closes the door behind him.  
  
„This is actually pretty creepy,“ he says, hugging his goosebumps covered arms as he stares into the endless dark tunnel of the connected houses.  
  
„If this would be a horror film-“  
  
„Stop!“ Viktor squeals and covers his ears, „You know who dies in horror films? People who say it‘s a horror film.“ Yuuri laughs as he unpacks the backpack, shaking his head slightly. „The people who die in horror films are the ones who are reckless and have sex in weird places,“ he says while he spreads the fuzzy blanket over the wood, Viktor‘s laugh resonating in the dark.  
  
Viktor lies down on the blanket while Yuuri takes his phone and turns the flashlight on. Viktor smiles up at him, his lips trembling and Yuuri leans down to kiss him and rub his arms to warm Viktor up, and now he is trembling and smiling too much to properly reciprocate the kiss.

„Viktor, I want you to- um...“ Yuuri doesn‘t know how to ask for it, had never wanted anyone to do this with him, so he fumbles with the zipper of his hoodie. „Touch me...“ he says softly and looks at Viktor.  
  
His lips are parted only the slightest bit, his expression breathtakingly fond as he pulls Yuuri closer.  
  
„Of course.“   

 

 

  
Yuuri is shaking while Viktor opens him up slowly, carefully. The air seems to have heated up and Viktor‘s arm is wrapped around his waist, his lips pressed to the crook of his neck as Viktor fingers him open and it feels like the time stands still.  
  
And when he starts begging and moaning embarrassingly high, a single tear slipping down his cheek, Viktor puts on a condom and pushes into Yuuri, and then it doesn‘t take long until they move and gasp each others names, getting completely lost in each other.  
  
It feels so good that Yuuri wants to cry. Because Viktor doesn‘t only hit his sweet spot so perfectly, but he also looks at Yuuri like that again, like he wants to say the same words Yuuri screams in his mind, the sounds he makes, the way he holds Yuuri like he is something fragile, delicate, the sweet torture of his slow movements and Yuuri wants to say these words, but whenever he opens his mouth they transform into a moan.

When he comes Viktor shallows his moan, and somewhere in a distant part of his mind Yuuri knows that he shouldn‘t clamp so hard on Viktor, but he can‘t help himself. Then Viktor starts moving again, frantic and desperate chasing his release, and now he plainly fucks Yuuri which feels good in its own way because Yuuri forgets where he is and feels tears prickle in his eyes and sees sparks, and he likes to think that they are the same sparks Viktor‘s eyes send out the whole time and that he finally managed to set him aflame.  
  
But the moment is over and in the quietness Yuuri can hear their panting, feels how Viktor‘s chest raises and lowers, almost like waves on the beach in Hasetsu. This thought makes him chuckle breathlessly. He notices that his foot is cold somehow, and he looks past Viktor and sees his own foot sticking in a hole of the wall of the house that wasn‘t there earlier.  
  
„Viktor.“ He says and stares at his foot, moving it experimentally. There is pain, but it doesn‘t seem too bad.  
  
But when Viktor sees it he freaks out, pulling out immediately and tries to get his foot out of the wall carefully, so he doesn‘t get any splinters. The wood doesn‘t seem to be very thick, and Yuuri probably kicked it without realizing during his orgasm.  
  
As they realize it they laugh until they are crying.  
  
Then Viktor moves back to Yuuri and drops his head on his chest and breathes out heavy. His hair is tickling Yuuri‘s neck and chin, and he can‘t help but wrap his arms around him and drape the blanket over his shoulders and back. He knows that they are a mess and that they should go to the hotel, but when they go back there then they‘ll sleep, and in the morning-  
  
Yuuri stops that train of thought.  
  
They are completely wrapped up in each other but it‘s still not enough, and he craves something, craves Viktor, so he slides his hand between them and guides Viktor‘s limp cock back into him, both of them gasping from oversensibility.  
  
„I just- need a minute,“ he murmurs into Viktor‘s hair whorl, and he hums contentedly as answer.  
  
„Katsuki Yuuri, you really are a surprise,“ he laughs breathlessly, „I think I won‘t forget this for the rest of my life.“  
  
„You better won't, I will bring this up at our wedding.“

Viktor snorts, and then his shoulders begin to shake. Yuuri tries to wrap himself even more around him and Viktor clings to him helplessly. Yuuri‘s heart feels sore as he presses his face into Viktor‘s hair as if he wants to hide him from the rest of the world. A sob rocks through Viktor‘s body and Yuuri prays that it will be over quickly.

 

 

 

The walk back to the hotel is not nearly as cheerful as the way to Lilleputthammer. Both of them are sticky and sweaty, and it seems colder now than before. In Viktor‘s hotel room they shower together, slowly washing each other. Only now Yuuri understand how vulnerable a naked person actually is, and he wants to protect Viktor from anything. They end up fucking in the shower, Yuuri bend over as Viktor pounds him from behind, the slap of skin against skin way louder now because of the water. This has nothing to do anymore with before, and Viktor marks him with lovebites and digs his nails into Yuuri‘s skin until he hisses. It's like he wants to say _You belong to me._  
  
And this is the only thing he knows in his clouded, hazy mind in this moment.  
  
They go to sleep naked, and Yuuri wraps the sheets around them, almost building a nest. The sky is the tiniest bit lighter at the horizon, and Yuuri‘s heart stops for a second. And he lies beside Viktor and chants in his mind _I_ _t‘s not morning yet, it‘s not morning yet_.  
  
They kiss a long time after they turned off the lights because maybe, just maybe Viktor can take the words that sit on the tip of his tongue away like this and knows what he wants to say. Viktor smiles at him with a deep sadness in his eyes. Grief. And Yuuri stares right back into his eyes because he feels the same.

Yuuri tries to engrave Viktor into his mind, not like he is now but the way he was during these days, and his feelings are tangled and terrifying and overwhelming. His eyes are heavy but when he closes them he forgets how Viktor looks, the _real_ Viktor, and opens his eyes, tries to remember his cupids bow, his nose, the lines of his jaw, his eyebrows. It‘s not enough.  
  
But he feels himself drifting of to sleep regardless as their breathing adjusts. Yuuri almost cries. Almost.  
  
Because this is a goodbye after all. 

 

 

 

They only get to sleep four hours. When Yuuri wakes up he looks at Viktor for a long time, searching in his relaxed, gorgeous, freckly face for the answer, even though he hasn‘t asked yet.  
  
They shower again together and Yuuri washes Viktor‘s hair, which is pretty hard to do because Viktor is taller than him, so he stands on his tip toes. But Viktor is scared that he will slip, so he rinses it out himself. Yuuri stands there, holding his elbows and watches him. He looks too far way, and the fact that in only a couple of hours he will be far away sends a sob through his body.

Viktor tries to convince Yuuri to eat breakfast, but he doesn‘t have an appetite. He must have swallowed the words that were on his tongue before accidentally, because now they are coiling in his gut and burn a hole through him, and he doesn‘t know what to do.

Viktor also doesn‘t eat anything, even though he told Yuuri just yesterday proudly „I never skip breakfast, doesn‘t matter how late I am.“ And it‘s almost cruel how not even this is correct anymore, like they were just playing pretend when they wanted to get to know each other.  
  
And now this silly game is over and both of them will return to their normal lives. Forgetting each other. 

 

 

 

Yuuri then folds Viktor‘s clothes, even though he knows that he will stay in Norway a bit longer, but it always soothed Yuuri‘s nerves because it‘s a simple routine, and a tiny, selfish part of him likes to pretend that he came with Viktor to this hotel, and that they will leave together, in the same airplane, sitting next to each other as they fly home. Strangely he thinks about Hasetsu, not Detroit, and he smiles a bit at that.  
  
He straightens the tiny folds in his clothes with his hands as if he could press his feelings into the fabric, and Viktor would wear them around like an armor to protect him from loneliness and other things. It's silly. Yuuri feels like he is sending Viktor off to war.  
  
It reminds him of their first day, and he bites his lips and sighs quietly. Viktor sits next to him and watches him. Yuuri lifts one of his dress shirts to his lips and kisses it like he is kissing Viktor, and then the door opens and Chris and Phichit walk into the room.

Phichit packed his things for him thankfully. They don‘t seem to have slept at all, both of them smelling like alcohol and in the same clothes from yesterday, bags under their eyes not even concealer can hide. They change and all four of them head to the airport. Viktor immediately bends down to carry Yuuri‘s bag, but he takes it and carries it himself because Viktor‘s shoulders are so slumped it looks like he will break down any second, and Yuuri hopes the physical exertion might distract him from the turmoil he feels inside of him. 

 

 

 

The drive in the taxi is silent. Everyone is tired, and it feels like they‘ve said everything that was left to say already. It‘s way harder to be so open and vulnerable in the bright sunlight. The rest would be pointless banter, small talk, and Viktor doesn‘t deserve that. He deserves the words that torment Yuuri, and for the first time when he looks at Viktor he wonders if he maybe also has words stuck in his body. He doesn‘t ask. Maybe it‘s better that way.  
  
Phichit looks at him concerned, but he only shakes his head slightly at him. He sees Chris raising his eyebrows questionably at Viktor, but he doesn‘t react at all, his eyes covered by his large Gucci glasses.

 

 

  
The four of them wait together, the bags to their feet. After two hours of practically silence because everyone is on their phone, Yuuri suddenly wants to laugh because this whole situation is surreal and absolutely ridiculous: He had sex with his idol, had spent the last two days with him, knows about his freckles and his dog and his ugly socks and now they are going to part ways like strangers.  
  
Even though they still have some time left Viktor sits besides him, his legs crossed and looks with a serious expression at his phone. Yuuri begins to smile and then laugh, and it just bubbles out of him. Viktor, Phichit and Chris stare at him like he is a maniac, and maybe he is, and then Phichit and Chris look back at their phones, probably because they sense that Yuuri and Viktor are going to talk. (It‘s not that they are not listening, but Yuuri appreciates the try to make it less obvious)  
  
„What?“ Viktor asks, and Yuuri laughs again, and he can feel his eyes crinkling at the edges as the whole uncomfortable tension from before simply evaporates.  
  
„It‘s just… we have so little time together, and we are just going to fucking ignore each other now?“ he asks, smiling for some reason. Viktor presses his lips together into a thin line.  
  
„You said fuck.“ He comments dryly.  
  
„Yeah.“ Yuuri simply says and shrugs.  
  
Viktor sounds surprised. „I never heard you curse before.“  
  
„Well, yeah, because right now- I‘m fucking mad!“ He exclaims and accentuates his words as he lightly knocks his fists against his knees.  
  
And Viktor _smiles._  
  
And then he laughs and it‘s real and genuine and it should be heartbreaking but it isn‘t. It doesn‘t hurt.

Yuuri slowly pushes Viktor‘s sunglasses up to rest on his head, and his eyes are so, so red, but now he is smiling and gently cups Yuuri‘s face, and they meet each other and it feels like the whole world shifts. It feels like they haven‘t done this in ages and they cling to each other, hands roaming over legs and chests and waist and backs, and both of them smile into the kiss because it doesn‘t hurt anymore.  
  
But then Viktor‘s shoulders begin to shake, and it gets harder and harder to properly kiss Viktor because his lips tremble so much, and he makes these beautiful whiny noises in the back of his throat, high and desperate, and when Yuuri pulls away he sees a Viktor with bags under his eyes, sees his trembling lips and unspilled tears and his freckles he didn‘t cover up, and it‘s like Yuuri seems him for the very first time.  
  
„Yuuri, tell me something...“ he pleads and searches in Yuuri‘s eyes for something, and he understands what he wants, finally, _finally_ understands and the words in his gut unfurl and crawl up his throat and tongue and then he says, after he denied it for so long:  
  
„ _I love you._ “  
  
Yuuri waits and listens how they sound out of his mouth, and the only thing he feels is contentment and peace. Because it was the right thing to say, despite all his worries and fears and the future. In this moment it was the right thing to say.  
  
Viktor‘s tears plop from his eyes and his whole face scrunches up, crinkles like paper and he sobs loudly, and then he pulls Yuuri close and forcefully smashes their lips and teeth together, kissing him again and again and again and Yuuri laughs and laughs, and then both of them are crying and laughing and kissing and it‘s freeing. It‘s peaceful and messy and _perfect._  
  
When they pull away Yuuri asks him breathlessly: “And you?“ and Viktor smirks at him, despite looking like a mess and pulls out his phone.  
  
Yuuri‘s number is saved as „Future Boyfriend ♥♥♥“.  
  
A hot fist clenches his heart and he stares at Viktor and then pulls him close again, kissing him frantically.

„I know we have to work a couple of things out,“ Viktor says in between kisses, „But we‘ll make this work,“ Yuuri‘s hands thread through Viktor‘s silky hair as he bites his lip, „And- and shattering idolized versions of each other is what all relationships are about, right?“ Yuuri hums, „I- I really can‘t talk like this Yuuri!“ Viktor whines as Yuuri smothers him with kisses, laughing in between.  
  
„The story of our first fuck is way too good,“  
  
„Yuuri, I really like it when you curse...“ Viktor mumbles, his eyes sending out sparks again.  
  
„We will tell this story at our wedding.“ Yuuri says and Viktor laughs, and then they are kissing again an again, preferably until eternity.

 

 

  
The actual goodbye isn‘t that sad.

Phichit and Chris are whooing so loud that the people at the airport are looking at them funny, but they don't mind. („We couldn‘t really find a good timing to chime in because you literally tried to crawl inside each other.“)  
  
And while he sits in the airplane, his lips kissred and smiling he notices that they don‘t fly to Detroit.  
  
„Surprise!“ Phichit says and films his reaction as he tells him they are going to visit Yuuri‘s family. He hugs Phichit so tightly and long that both of them get tears in their eyes.  
  
„Suddenly you are such a sap, Yuuri.“ Phichit accuses as he wipes carefully on his eyes.

 

 

  
On the 25th June, 15 days, 360 hours and 21600 minutes after Vicchan‘s death, and the exact numbers are important, Phichit barges into Yuuri‘s room with an unusual excited expression.  
  
„Okay,“ he says, his slim hands in his hips, „Go downstairs.“  
  
What Yuuri didn‘t expect was Viktor Nikiforov standing in front of their door and talking to his mother.  
  
Yuuri runs towards him and Viktor catches the legs that wrap around his waist just in time as their lips and teeth and noses smash together. They both groan because of the pain and pull away, and Yuuri must have crashed very badly against Viktor because there are red drops of blood dripping from his nose, and Yuuri looks at the shocked expression of Viktor and Viktor looks at the shocked expression of Yuuri, and then they are laughing so much their stomachs hurt.  
  
It‘s definitely the best kiss they've shared until now.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading ♥♥♥


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